


Fermata

by DragonflyxParodies



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Castaway AU, College, F/M, I don't know it but my friend does so bear with me guys, Link Uses Sign Language, Link probably would've stayed if he'd have realized that, Link's been stranded on a deserted island for three years, M/M, Male Sheik, Mute Link, Old Friends, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Rescue, coming back to civilization means dealing with the shit you left behind, don't do it kids, probably not exactly a healthy relationship, rejoining society, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 15:54:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11649837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonflyxParodies/pseuds/DragonflyxParodies
Summary: Five years ago, Sheik met a boy who would change his life forever. Link met a boy who would one day save his. But neither of them knew that.Four years ago Link broke Sheik’s heart.Three years ago, Link died when his plane went down in a sudden storm off the coast of Hyrule. The bodies were never recovered.Two days ago an off-course fisherman found a man surviving on a deserted island, alongside the wreckage of a plane long thought gone for good.And though he doesn’t know it yet, all Sheik has is one year. One year to make a decision. To put his life on hold for the boy he loved more than anything, or to put the past behind him and move on like those around him have done.





	1. Chapter 1

               His footsteps scuff along rapidly beneath the chatter of the hospital hallway, and Sheik’s fingers twisted the paper in his hands so tightly it ripped.

He halted so quickly he swayed forward, almost enough to send him toppling over, and looked up, searching.

Room 373B was his goal, and he sucked in a shaky breath as he scanned the open doorways around him—

\--and the entire world stopped.

Blue wasn’t quite adequate enough for the color of his eyes. Sapphire, almost-navy in their intensity, and they stared at Sheik like he’d seen a ghost. His face was narrow, gaunt, and he would have been skeletal had it not been for the layer of muscle covering every inch of him, skin dark with years of sun and freckles dusting his face, his shoulders. He was nested in a pile of wires and tubes, huddled beneath scratchy white hospital blankets that slipped down as he leaned forward. His hair was ragged, a darker shade of gold than Sheik remembered, and hung loosely to his shoulders. He looked so much _older_ —

He blinked, and his vision blurred so completely he could barely make out the glowing square of the doorway.  He stumbled forward blindly, and when he blinked again Link was reaching out to him, and his touch was iron as he grabbed him, dragged him forward and pulled Sheik into him.

Sheik couldn’t _speak_ , couldn’t even tell Link to let him sit _normally—_ instead he let Link pull closer and closer until he had no choice but to straddle his lap, until all Sheik could hug was his head, even as Link tried to crush him and bury his face in his chest.

And Link _sobbed_. Wailed with a broken sort of agony that chilled Sheik to the bone, brought tears streaming down his own cheeks, even as Link’s fingers dug so deeply into his back it _hurt_ , even as Sheik knew it would leave horrible bruises.

Sheik didn’t know what to do, how he was supposed to react—he realized then that he hadn’t believed it, not really, hadn’t dared let himself hope that it was true, that _Link was alive_.

“It’s okay—it’ll be alright, shhh—“ Sheik’s voice shivered and cracked, but he didn’t know what else to say, what else to do. He just breathed reassurances, stroked Link’s hair back and wept.

Nurses scurried in at some point, and briefly, Sheik registered their whispering—and then the click of a door, and silence save for their crying.

**XIIIXIIIIXIIIXIIIXIIIXIIIXIIIX**

When he woke up it was to the sound of voices, and for a moment he almost screamed, until his eyes snapped open and he found himself staring at the sun-kissed outline of a person.

No, not a person. Link would recognize those eyes anywhere.

 _Sheik_.

“I can’t—no. I won’t be coming in today. You got—“ Sheik stopped whispering, as if he’d been cut off, and pressed a hand to his forehead. His voice was rough and scratchy, eyes puffy and red, and he had yet to notice that Link was awake.

“Fine. I don’t— _I am at the fucking hospital!_ I’ll let you know when I can come back.” He hissed, and _fury_ sparked in his voice like lightning before he moved and—

He was holding a phone.

Link had reached out before he knew what he was doing, hooked his fingers around Sheik’s hip and—

 _He was touching him_. He was—

“L—did I wake you? I’m sorry. I was…” Sheik trailed off, and Link couldn’t even bring himself to care that he wasn’t talking anymore. He was _real_ , really lying there, really shifting when Link pulled him closer, he could _feel him—_

“I’m so glad you’re alright.” Sheik’s fingers slid along Link’s cheek as he whispered it, and Link closed his eyes for a moment, pressing his head against Sheik’s chest—hearing his heartbeat, smelling his scent—sweat, sleep, tea tree and soapy chemicals. Drinking in his presence, drinking in the relief it brought—that _it hadn’t been a dream._

His rescue. Seeing Sheik. _Holding_ him.

Sheik squirmed a bit, sat up and dragged Link up too. Link bit back his wince as his wounds were jostled, but he couldn’t fathom complaining.

Sheik was older now. And he looked it, too. His white-blonde hair was long, bangs swept gently over one eye, face sharper and more defined. He wasn’t wearing glasses any longer, and little bits of crystal and metal glittered on his earlobes, silver, and red like his eyes. He was taller, too—though still shorter than Link. And that made him tear up too, that some things hadn’t changed.

“I asked—Zelda wouldn’t come. She couldn’t—she couldn’t handle it, she said. Not right now, anyway. Soon—I _promise_ , I’ll get her here soon—“

He swallowed hard, curled his fingers around Sheik’s and squeezed gently.

The need to _speak_ hit him suddenly, and he lifted his hands instinctively—

And drew a complete and utter blank.

Panic hit him like a sledgehammer, but Sheik seemed to realize the problem _immediately_ —he grabbed Link’s hands and pressed them down, into the scratchy blankets between them.

“It’s alright. I—do you remember how to write?”

His panic grew for a moment, swelled until his vision began to spot black—and then calmed.

Yes. He did. He’d spent three years reading that same fucking manual over and over and over—

He nodded, shakily, and Sheik offered him an encouraging smile before reaching for…something. A bag, it turned out to be, clearly his own. Sheik undid the flap and pulled out a heavy notebook, along with a few pens.

Link took them with shaking hands, pressing his fingers against the paper— _real_ paper, not that paper-thin, splotchy manual paper—like he’d never touched it before. The pen, too—the smell of ink brought tears to his eyes, because _this was real_.

Sheik’s fingers danced across his cheeks, wiping away tears and smoothing back strands of hair wordlessly. He let Link linger over the items, over his touch, until Link was ready. Until he’d settled on what he wanted to write.

 _I’m home_.

His words were shaky and messy, hesitant and ugly. But Sheik let out a wet laugh, and nodded so hard strands of his own hair bounced free of his braid.

He was so _warm_.

“I’m so glad you’re—that you’re alive. That you’re home.”

Link laughed, the sound just as weepy as Sheik’s had been.

_Me too._


	2. Chapter 2

               “Are you alright, sweetie?” The nurse’s voice was soft and—more importantly— _genuine_ , but Sheik’s smile still felt strained and fake. She’d been nothing but sweet to him, as had her coworkers. They’d let him stay the night, _again_ , and hadn’t chased him off. She’d brought food up for both Link and himself when they’d forgotten to do so, and she had even explained in great detail what she was doing to Link and what was wrong with him.

Mostly severe dehydration and malnutrition, but he’d had a slight fever when they’d found him. And his left leg was messed up _badly_. It had broken at some point and healed strangely.

Link limped when he walked. The nurse had even brought him a cane to use, to help with it.

And they were waiting for a specialist to come in, to make sure Link was… _sound._

“I’m just—I’m tired.”

“You’ve been here two days and neither of you have slept much. We’d have made you go home so he could get some rest but he’s barely slept a full two hours since he got here—he gets a little more now that you’re here.”

He wondered if she was _supposed_ to be telling him this. Probably not. He wasn’t family, and he wasn’t even sure he could be considered a _friend_. Still, it meant a lot.

“Thank you. For…everything.” He murmured, fiddling with a straw wrapper as he met her gaze. She tilted her head to the side, and smiled.

“He doesn’t talk much.”

“He can’t. He’s mute.”

Her golden eyes went wide.

“Really?”

Sheik nodded slowly, gaze glancing up at the doorway across the hall. He’d given Link some privacy. To cope with his presence, mostly, though Link had claimed he just needed to shower.

“He taught me sign language when we met, so we could talk in class. The teacher’s desk was in the middle of the room, and we faced each other.”

“Oh, dear. Well—here, the doctor should be arriving sometime today. Stay with him, will you? And let the doctor know? It was included in the reports—we thought it was a…a _symptom_.”

“Don’t you have his medical records, still?” Sheik asked, surprised, and he looked up at her.

“He hasn’t been _officially_ identified yet. That’s part of the doctor’s job.” She gave him a sympathetic look, pressed her hands gently over his, as if she was thinking the same thing. Marveling at the sheer _incompetence_ Link had been handled with.

“You have no idea how much this is going to help him. Your presence, I mean. To think—I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you, and here you are trying to be strong for him. Just…make sure to take care of yourself, alright?” Strands of red hair slipped free of her bun as she leaned forward, forcing him to meet her eyes.

“Thank you.”

“Promise me.” She ordered, and Sheik felt a _real_ smile stretch across his lips.

“I promise.”

“There you go.” She smiled, and squeezed his hands gently before leaving.

Sheik tilted his head back, resting it on the wall behind him, and before long his eyes found a small television barely visible around the corner of the hall—a small waiting area broke the hall into two parts. Someone had turned the news on.

The smile slipped from his face when he saw the text banner flashing along the bottom.

_Source says survivor is 22 yr old Link Outstet….no word on what caused the fatal crash…more tonight at seven…._

Sheik stood up, before he realized what he was doing—and then the door to Link’s room opened, and Link smiled tiredly at him as he sagged against the doorframe.

_Done_. His hands moved clumsily, and he pushed his hands out somewhat when he turned his palms, his movement slow and hesitant. But the spark of pride, of _relief_ that flashed through his eyes when he did so was more than enough to ease Sheik’s anxiety.

He had put on a baggy pair of grey sweatpants instead of the hospital gown, and he invited Sheik in with an anxious, fearful smile. He kept glancing down the hall, at the large _Exit_ sign hanging from the ceiling, like Sheik might turn and run for it.

“Are you feeling better?” Sheik asked quietly, and Link’s eyes fluttered shut as he nodded. He reached out unsteadily and took Sheik’s hand, following him back into the hospital room.

It was less _sterile_ than it had been when he’d arrived. Sheik’s coat and his bag lay across an armchair beside the window, and the hospital bed Link slept in was rumpled and messy. There were less wires and tubes now, though Link was still wheeling around an IV.

“…Do you want to talk about it?” Sheik asked, so softly he could barely hear it. Link jerked away from him like he’d been stung, eyes darkening, but he didn’t blink and didn’t look away from Sheik. Sheik winced, eyes falling to the tile beneath them. He’d avoided asking, hadn’t wanted to pressure Link into reliving what had happened. But he felt that the offer _had_ to be made—Link had to know that Sheik would listen, when the time came.

Link swallowed, hard, and dragged his gaze away from Sheik. His hands fumbled across the bed, for the notepad and pen lying discarded amongst the blankets.

“I didn’t mean to upset you, Link. Don’t worry about it.” Sheik kept his tone level and as calm as he could keep it, when Link froze, staring at a blank page with an almost terrified expression. He moved to take the paper from him, but Link jerked to action, shaking his head so hard he almost stumbled, and scribbled something on it.

_i still feel like this is all a dream_

A bitter, self-deprecating smile crossed his lips, and Sheik felt his heart break, just a little more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three guesses who the nurse is lmao  
> Sooooooooooo I guess I have no inbetween with stories. I either drown y'all in authors notes or just post the shit with no comment lol. But I don't know exactly how this is going to turn out, so we'll see. Enjoy the ride, and I apologize in advance for all the angst. Not that it isn't called for, given the situation.  
> ALSO LET ME KNOW IF I FUCK UP THE SIGN LANGUAGE PLEASE. I have no experience signing anything besides 'girl' and 'boy' for four-year-olds so feel free to throw things at me. It'll be okay.


End file.
